


sensitive

by Sonny



Series: WORD : GAMES [7]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-10
Updated: 2009-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny





	sensitive

  
** WORD is...  ** **_ sensitive _ **

  
He saw it out of the corner of his eye almost every night like clockwork. An action he and twenty-five other patrons at Woody's are privy to.

It's not disgusting or terribly awful, but it makes you wonder. Thoughts in your head when hormones are high--how perfect they would be in bed together or how you would like to watch just _once_... yeah, _once_. Often the thoughts have been layered by some idea they would be complimentary to one another in the daily humdrum of their lives.

The taller of the two men stood precariously close to the pool table ledge, making it impossible to walk around the inside of the table. The fat side of the pool stick was pointing down, tapping on the floor. He was leaning his face on the thin structure up top, where his hand wrapped around. He liked to pretend to look bored as his companion shifted about the rectangled shape, trying to locate the best angle for a good, clean shot. Quite often-- _a few times already_ \--the tall man leaned back to sneak glances of the ample bottom, biting his lip to quell an urge or a temptation he knows he can't seek.

Once the shot was taken-- _the exact ball hitting the correct pocket with such precision and perfection_ \--the shorter man did his own private cheer, while his friend brooded in silence. Despite the sullen appearance amidst the exuberance, there was a beautiful smile hidden behind those fingers playing over full lips.

It was what eventually came next that shocked most everyone paying attention. There had always been a reputation to uphold-- _one of prey to predator_. The positions never wavered--except now--and _only_ with _this_ man.

Some found it fascinating to watch predator wanting to become prey. Actions would be on purpose, made to look random and seamless.

At first the two men looked innocent, like best friends sharing in an obligatory, exciting and emotional moment. Soon it took a turn into the sexual surreal, where no one knew which man was pretending to make fantasy become reality.

... and the move that started the transition was quite subtle and in secret. Only a few could truly see what was clearly visible.

Out of every delectable inch of Brian Kinney, there has been one **sensitive** patch of skin at the lower small of his back. One touch aroused him on a level of unknown heights that it seemed only one man could find. Every man watching attempted to take notes, but never seemed to be able to duplicate the masterfulness of Michael Novotny's caress.

Coming out from the dip of the elongated spine, along the soft pale skin and sloping over right ass cheek. Don't ask how Michael found it--that one "button" he had control of. Whenever bottom hems didn't meet low-riding jean waistlines, he was apt to take the reigns and "push" that trigger.

Tonight... Brian was horny enough to silently beg for the slight caress, knowing any minute two knuckles would scrape over his exposed flesh from Michael's fingers. He splayed his hands on the pool table, pool stick tucked into the left arm. He made it seem like he was contemplating his own next perfect shot. He made certain the material of his short shirt rode upward, showing off a stretch of skin.

Then came Michael, sidling up to Brian's side, fitting up against the awkwardly stretched back. He was making it appear as if he was gaging Brian's shot, as well.

Brian sucked in a deep inhale of air--as did ten or more patrons-- as he slowly blinking his eyes in anticipation. He knew Michael couldn't resist.

... but instead Michael flipped the "game", finding the second most tender spot on Brian's body... one no one could never ever find, no matter how long they stared. He kissed the light perspiring skin, with his tongue extended tentatively to lap at salt and sweat, right at the curve of the sloping neck into the broad shoulder blade. Michael wasn't going to play into Brian's hand with his final trump card. It was his usual form of distracting Brian from their pool game at hand. Well, until he saw the threat of an impending loss coming his way.

Strategies were always in place, always keeping both men on their toes--and others watching with want and jealous envy.

Michael sauntered to the opposite side of the pool table. He rested on the ledge, much like Brian's stance. One eyebrow cocked as if to say... "Game on, Kinney."

  
~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~ 

 


End file.
